


Showbiz

by QueenPotatos



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Dating in Secret, Homophobia, M/M, Style 5 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPotatos/pseuds/QueenPotatos
Summary: The J-pop industry, Rin Matsuoka found out too late, was inhabited with sharks and vultures. They controlled their feelings, their dreams, their screams and voices. They patiently waited for their darkest souls to unfold, before pushing them to self destruction.He never thought Haruka Nanase would crystallized the best and the worst parts of his life in the brightness of his blue eyes.Or that love could be a curse, especially when it didn't fit in the mold of fame's conformity.
Relationships: Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15
Collections: [Destination: 2021] 2nd Gift Exchange: Valentine's!





	Showbiz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sapphiresflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphiresflame/gifts).



> Hi Sapphie, here is your anon gifty ! I got a bit...inspired by this AU so i couldn't finish it on time, and I think it's gonna be a bit long. Like. Long. So here is the first chapter! I hope you'll like it. Don't worry there will be plenty of angst. The next chapters should come a bit quicker than the rest of the story that is not yet written! So bear with your anon gifty for a moment ?? You'll be lovely.

* * *

The room they had asked him to wait in for the audition was more like a long corridor, filled with identical seats that were made of a vulgar, fake red leather that squeezed when he sat down. Rin had the unpleasant impression that his mother drove him to the dentist by mistake instead of the biggest record company’s office in the whole country. In a sense, there were some striking similarities, as boys of the same approximate age as him  _ — _ how many were there? Perhaps ten, or eleven  _ — _ were anxiously waiting for their name to be called, their eyes to the ground, and with the hushed noise of potential rivals singing behind closed doors as the only indication of what their future held instead of the terrifying piercing screech of a drill, and the cries it elected as it fatally approached a child’s mouth. 

Rin still wondered how Mikhail got him this audition. Even if it was miles away from what he wanted to do as an artist, he couldn’t refuse the opportunity. Style 5 was a boy band known in the whole country; if he were to be taken the media coverage would be beyond his imagination, and Rin could say goodbye to graveyard shifts and his miserable flat. Even if it meant making a pact with the devil, this chance was too big to be ignored  _ — _ and after all, wasn’t what the last member just did? Took the band as a stepping stone to launch a solo career? Natsuya Kirishima leaving Style 5 had caused a media frenzy. There was a high chance that such a betrayal could have closed countless doors for him, but his popularity was so immense that his fanbase immediately followed, and once the record company was reassured that the brainless chicks would buy twice as much of their products, they let him be.

Or so it said in the magazine Rin just read. One that he’d found laying nicely in a low table next to his seat. Like in a dentist’s lobby.

The door opened and all heads turned at the same time. A young man exited with haste; it was impossible to know how his audition went. An older man with the most improbable haircut, for someone who worked in such a fake and superficial world such as this, where nothing mattered more than looks and conformity, called for the next applicant, and the guy in front of Rin stood up. When the door closed behind him, silence fell again, heavy as a lead weight. It would be a lie to say the atmosphere wasn’t suffocating. 

Rin stared at each one of the Style 5 aspirants, and bit his lips to hide his smile; he was — excuse his modesty — the most handsome of the whole lot, and he knew his voice had its charms. It was a shame that he was from the whole assembly, perhaps, the one who wanted to join the band the least — he didn’t want to but he  _ needed _ it, desperately. Unfortunately, in this cruel world working hard was not always enough to get what you wanted, and gosh, Rin did, restlessly; he danced until his toes bled, he sang until he couldn’t speak anymore, he ate exotic diets made entirely of the same fruit, until the mere scent of it was enough to make him puke, for his skin to be perfect and spotless. But they were so many that did the same, and so few had the chance to even see the spotlight.

In a sense, even attending this audition was a miracle. The bigwigs in charge would have no choice but to listen to his performance; so even if he was not fit for Style 5, or any kind of boy band for that matter, there was a chance that someone would want to see more of him and his talents. It was his best opportunity to catch somebody’s eyes before his time was due; he was only nineteen, but he needed to make a breakthrough before twenty if he wanted to make a living out.

By now, Rin had spent an hour waiting. He felt as if he had ants in his pants. He spread his legs more in annoyance than to ease the pain caused by their stiffness and let out a sigh. The rest of the candidates sent him a dark look before going back to perusing their phones — my, did they all have a broom stuck in their arse?

Rin needed a change of atmosphere. Another name had been called that wasn’t his, and by now he had figured out how much time each audition lasted. He could go to the bathroom and come back without the risk of missing his call.

In contrast to the waiting room, the bathroom held a certain standing. The mirrors in front of the faucets reached the ceiling — and the ceiling’s height was purely insane, perhaps twice or thrice as high as his own place — but it was not what caught Rin’s attention. Haruka Nanase had just vacated a cubicle and was in the middle of washing his hands. The suit he wore was Armani, Rin could tell — he had a thing for those, and could even estimate it cost more than his whole wardrobe. But this guy wore it with such nonchalance that the whole purpose of wearing a suit was lost, and made Rin clench his fist with something close to indignation. Such a waste of potential. 

Rather ironically, that phrasing alone summarized what Rin thought of the most admired member of Style 5, and who stood presently in front of him. As far as he could remember, the moment Rin had found his dream of singing, Haruka Nanase was a step ahead — or perhaps more like ten. When Rin had begun studying music theory, Haruka Nanase was already playing a violin concerto in a fully booked amphitheater, when Rin was singing under the shower, Haruka Nanase, aged 10, was impressing countless of scouts in auditions, like the one Rin was about to take; and when, finally Rin sang on a real stage, in a local pub, and got paid for it, Haruka Nanase was singing in Tokyo Dome as the newest member of Style 5. That was two years ago. And since that moment, nothing. 

It was not that he couldn’t reach higher. On the contrary, it showed that Haruka Nanase could do more, be more than just a part of an ephemeral boy band, whose popularity one day would crash and be defeated by others, by younger singers. But rather than working towards his future, here he was, wearing a 50 000 yen suit with tennis’ socks and sneakers as if he had been forced to dress to impress and didn’t care, as if he hadn’t realized yet how lucky he was to have been graced with such a raw and pure talent. Haruka Nanase had something most human beings could never dream to possess. A natural elegance, a charming phlegm, a beautiful grace, that when he sang or danced, made all difficulties appear as if they were nonexistent to begin with. It was, perhaps, the epitome of talent to erase hours of work and labour from the spectators’ eyes, but in Haruka Nanase’s case, Rin had suspected for a long time that it was not the result of hours of practice, but a demonstration of his inherent virtuosity.

For example, even the way he washed his hands was mesmerizing.

Rin studied the delicate and slow movement of his hands as they welcomed the lukewarm water. He raised them up to take some soap as if they were feathers, and rubbed his palms together until foam appeared. Then, very carefully, he entwined his fingers to wash their sides and did the same from the back of one hand, then the other. He washed his thumbs, then his wrists, and only then rinsed the soap from his hands. He shook them three times in front of the sink, and his long fingers threw drops of water on the mirror in front of him. Only when he looked for the hand dryer, his eyes fell on Rin.

Immediately Rin tensed; he’d been caught staring at, well, another guy simply washing his hands, even if the aforementioned guy was a pop star that was  _ weird as hell _ . It didn’t help his uneasiness that Rin was, in essence, dressed the exact opposite as Haruka Nanase, meaning that he wore his Uniqlo suit as if it had cost him an arm and leg, with classic shoes that were one size too big but had been his father’s and were still in good shape. If he had sensed Rin’s presence earlier, Haruka Nanase gave no sign of such cognizance. For a moment Rin thought, he hoped, that the boy, the role model he had been unconsciously running after since his dream first took shape, would acknowledge his existence and meet his gaze, perhaps ask him what he was doing here or if he had something on his face, or even just shyly look down and hurried to the exit with common embarrassment.

Yet Haruka Nanase did none of that.

Haruka Nanase marked a pause for a second only before he walked to the exit with his hands still wet, blue eyes cold as ice that didn’t even spare Rin a glance.

The door slamming behind his back startled him. Rin was left a bit baffled by what had just happened, from the improbability of this unhopeful meeting to its banal resolution, of two strangers meeting in a public bathroom who passed by each other without a glance. Rin felt mortified deep inside beset by an imposter syndrome he thought was far behind him. To have been silently patronized by someone he had once admired — and still did, or at least, the 10 year old boy inside him did — hurt Rin on so many levels that now, he couldn’t think of his childhood role model without a hint of contempt.

Well, too bad for Haruka Nanase. He had never been Rin’s favourite member of Style 5 anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all know what the British phlegm is otherwise I guess you had the laugh of your life.
> 
> also im sorry this is so short t_t gomen


End file.
